


Country Matters

by Rogue_Bard



Category: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 05:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14730455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue_Bard/pseuds/Rogue_Bard
Summary: Adventures in partially shifted Cait Sidhe, clothing optional.





	Country Matters

**Author's Note:**

> So I've finally reached the point of not just complaining about the lack of fic in this fandom and instead becoming part of the solution. I've never written porn before, but hey, call it a writing exercise. 
> 
> Also, my husband felt the need to look it up for me, and informed me that a cat's tongue is the equivalent of 20 grit sandpaper, you could refinish a table with that. I informed him that this is a work of fiction.

As I climbed the stairs, I could just see the first rays of dawn peeking through the kitchen window. This time of year, that meant it was very late indeed, and long past time for sensible changlings to be in bed. But then, no one has ever accused me of being sensible, and they have accused me of a lot things. Coming to my room, I was surprised to find no sign of Cagney, Lacey, or Spike. It seemed that everyone was asleep already, and mine was the only empty bed in the house. 

Content to solve that problem, I peeled off my jeans, and was tugging my tank top over my head when I caught the scent of pennyroyal and musk on the air. Once my field of vision had cleared again, I saw Tybalt, leaning against the dresser and running an appreciative gaze up and down my body. I stood for a moment, before arching my eyebrows when he failed to move. 

“If you’re content with a floor show, I’m certain you could find one that doesn’t involve getting in the way of my rest” I teased.

“May heaven forbid I should ever make you feel underappreciated” he replied, his eyes alight with amusement. “It appears I shall have to show you just how very appreciated you are.”

That was all the warning I got before he pounced, shoving me to fall neatly onto the bed, where he came to rest on top of me, knees straddling my waist as he drew me into a passionate kiss. It lasted until finally I had to pull back to draw breath. Tybalt apparently had no such needs, because he continued to kiss me, his lips tracing a line down my neck and across my collarbone. Reaching my bra, he drew his fingertips up my ribs, raising a tingling sensation that caused me to gasp, before he looped his hand behind me and undid the clasp, tossing the garment across the room as though it had committed an offense. 

Brushing his fingers back down my sides, he looked up at me with a glint in his eyes. Maintaining eye contact, he lowered his head and ran his tongue over the peak of my nipple. I gasped. The sensation was entirely different from when he had done this before, the wet, silky texture of his tongue having been replaced with something coarse and only slightly damp. It rode a knifes edge between pleasure and pain, cresting back up into pleasure as he lathed it again, this time with the more familiar feeling.  
I stared at him. He grinned, a wild edge in his eyes, though his teeth remained human-blunt. 

“Did you think that claws and teeth were the only partial shifts I was capable of? Oh my dear little fish, you have so very much to learn. And I believe I will enjoy every moment of teaching you.” Turning his attention to my neglected breast, he went to work in earnest, and in minutes had me arching against him, his ridiculously tight trousers doing nothing to hide his enjoyment as my thigh rode up between his legs. 

I attempted to draw him up against me so that I could work on getting his pants out of the way, but he caught my wrists, gathering them into one hand before raising them over my head. He let go then, letting me decide whether I would leave them there or not, and held me pinned with nothing more than his gaze as he brought his hands down and removed my underwear. 

Sliding off the bed to kneel on the floor, he drew me towards him with a firm grip on my legs, until they were hanging partially off the bed, and I was conveniently accessible. He nails traced paths up and down my thighs, never getting close to where I wanted them, as I writhed and strained. But desperate as I felt, I left my hands where he had put them. This, apparently, was the right choice. 

Finally, he brought his fingers inwards, stroking two of them inside of me suddenly, and crooking them repeatedly in a way that brought frantic sounds from my lips, but never quite getting where I needed him most. My eyes fell closed as I tried to focus on the feelings, tried to bring myself off, rutting against his fingers. 

Suddenly there was a new sensation. The hand not focused on driving me wild with need was spreading me open, and then his tongue was there, rough and sharp enough to bring all my nerves alive before switching back to a familiar soft heat. He went back and forth, driving me higher and higher, fingers working in concert with his tongue, until at last my orgasm broke over me like an unrelenting wave. His fingers still worked at me, riding me through the sensations until I stopped arching off the bed and collapsed back against it, feeling rung out of all sensation.

Tybalt crawled back up onto the bed, gently tugging me with him towards the headboard in a way the made my limp body do as little of the work as possible. I used all the energy I possessed to lean up and kiss him deeply, his lips still damp from my slick. It was a slow, languid kiss, and when it ended I sunk my head back on to the pillow, content to bask and enjoy the feeling of his hands stroking my sides. Cats, I have discovered, have all the right ideas about how nice it is to be petted.

The relaxed silence was broken by Tybalt’s voice, as self-satisfied as ever a cat has sounded. 

“Did you enjoy the lesson, my dear October?” The smug look I found on his face when I turned was somewhat spoiled by the still drying moisture around the corner of his mouth. He seemed to know what I was looking at, because his tongue darted out to bring it off of his lip. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. 

“Oh, but that’s not really the question, is it?” I asked, renewed energy allowing my brain to engage once again. He looked me curiously. “The real question is, why are you still wearing pants?” His look turned to a bright, warm grin.

“An oversight I will rectify in the shortest of order, I assure you.” He said, hands already at the ties on his pants, while mine went to the buttons of his vest. Sleep was, at times, highly overrated.


End file.
